


Homecoming

by zoemargaret



Series: Manager Verse [5]
Category: Football RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-13
Updated: 2009-11-13
Packaged: 2017-10-02 14:58:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoemargaret/pseuds/zoemargaret
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bojan's home from national call up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Homecoming

**Author's Note:**

> As usual, these characters are not mine. They are also not an accurate representation of the real live people they portray. I'm pretty certain Bojan isn't a slut, and I'm VERY certain Pep Guardiola has never slept with one of his players.
> 
> Many thanks to rainydaypsycho for beta, any remaining mistakes are my own.

Training starts in just a few weeks, but for now the team is released for holiday after international duty. Bojan's already visited family and stayed on the coast for a few days. In fact, his family is still there. He'd come back early, pleading the need for some time to himself after a hectic month.

He steps into the house and puts down his bag, then flips out his phone. He presses 9 and waits.

"Hello?"

He smiles at the familiar smooth voice. "Hi," he says trying to stay calm, but his voice betrays him.

"Bojan, hello," Pep says with pleasure. "How's the coast?

Bojan chuckles. "It was fine," he tells him. "Just, lots of people, you know? And after everything..." he trails off, knowing Pep will understand. "I decided to come home."

"Oh?" Pep sounds surprised. "Did you drag everyone back?"

"No, of course not! They're still there for another couple days." Bojan goes into his bedroom and flops down on the bed. "Thank goodness. I just wanted to be by myself, you know?"

"Mmm," Pep hums assent. "But Kiki, we both know you'll be bored to death by 6."

Bojan laughs and kicks his shoes off, sending them flying into the wall. "Hey! I will not, I have a new game. I'll be entertained till at LEAST 9."

Pep chuckles, the sound warm in Bojan's ear. "Well in that case, I should let you play your game," he suggests.

"No!" Bojan says a little too quickly if Pep's amused huff is anything to judge. "I mean, that's OK. I have plenty to do."

"Oh yeah?" Pep's words are slower, sexier and Bojan shivers. "Like what?"

"Well," Bojan licks his lips and lets his hand drift down to his waist. "I'm on my bed right now. I'm sure I can think of something..."

"Why don't you tell me about it?" Bojan trembles at the thread of lust running through the words. He traces the outline of his cock through his pants, wanting to draw this out now he finally has the opportunity.

"Remember the first time, against the wall?" he says. He swears he can hear Pep smile. "When everything else was asleep I sucked on my fingers and slid them inside myself."

"Was it good?" Pep asks hoarsely.

"What, jerking off?' Bojan asks innocently.

"Kiki," Pep groans. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah," Bojan purrs. "I do." He grabs himself through his pants, squeezing hard. "Are you hard right now? Do you want to fuck me again?"

"Bojan," Pep grits out. "Fuck. You know I do." His breathing is audible over the line and Bojan squirms, cock hardening even more.

"You were so good, Pep." Bojan's not really aware of what he's saying, more interested in reliving that night and wriggling out of his pants. "It was better than I'd ever imagined."

There's a pleased laugh and then, "Wait. When you say ever imagined, do you mean imagining sex with me?"

Bojan stops with his pants still hanging off one leg. He blushes, his entire body turning red and he spares a moment to be thankful Pep can't see him. "Yes?" he says hesitantly.

"Liar." Pep's voice is equal parts fondness and consternation. He heaves a sigh. "Was I your first, Kiki?"

From his tone Bojan knows it's a rhetorical question. He bites his lip. "Yes."

"Ever?"

"No!" Bojan forgets his embarrassment in indignation. "I'm not actually a baby, you know."

"So you keep telling me." Pep's voice is dark with promise and Bojan swallows, stomach flipping in excitement. "So, your first time was against a wall?"

"Yes." There's a weighty silence. "I'm sorry, Pep."

"Don't be sorry, sweetheart," Pep reassures him. "Just...Fuck. You were so..." he breaks off again. "I can't believe that was your first time." He laughs, almost incredulously. "Mother of God, you were begging for it."

Bojan sits up, arousal forgotten in a mixture of shame and indignation. "Pep, I'd been playing with toys for months," he informs him. "I'd fucked myself with my fingers, a butt plug, at least three dildos. Trust me, I know what I wanted." He glares at the phone.

Hmm," Pep says distractedly, noises in the background. "Bojan, I'm sorry but I need to go. Something's come up."

"What?" Bojan asks in bewilderment. "Wait, don't-" but he cuts himself off before he can finish. He swallows and looks down ruefully at his cock. "OK," he sighs.

"Will you be home? I don't know how long this is going to take, but I'll do my best to make it quick."

"Would it motivate you if you knew I was sitting on my bed fingering myself for you?"

Pep chokes off a groan. "Yes, I think that's adequate motivation." There's a rustling noise. "OK, I'll talk to you soon. And Bojan?"

"Yes?"

Dark chuckle. "Don't come without me."

Bojan groans. "Pep!" he complains. But he obediently drops his hand to his side. "Hurry."

 

 

Bojan throws the phone across the room in frustration. Fuck Pep and his stupid control kink. He lays back on the bed and stares at the ceiling. But, to be fair, he admits to himself, he really likes Pep's control kink. The strength of his hands as he held Bojan against the wall, the steel in his voice when he ordered him not to come...Bojan yanks his hand away from his cock.

"Fuck," he mutters to the ceiling. "This isn't going to work." He sighs and hauls himself out of bed, pulling up his jeans. After grabbing his phone he wanders into the living room and puts FIFA in the Xbox. He slumps onto the couch and waits for Pep's call.

An hour later he's beat Real Madrid three times and he's still fucking horny. He puts the controller down and cracks his neck.

Knock knock. Bojan jerks, startled. "What the hell?" Out of curiosity more than anything else he goes to the door. "He- Pep!" The other man looks...well, hot. Bojan licks his lips as he eyes the other man. "Pep! I thought you were busy?"

"I am," Pep said. "Are you going to invite me in?"

Flustered, Bojan stammers "Oh yes, of course, please." He steps back. He doesn't know what to do with Pep here, in his house. He casts a panicked eye around as Pep steps in. It can't be too messy, can it? He shuts the door behind Pep. "Well," he starts.

And then Pep's on him, pushing him against the door and kissing him harshly. Bojan freezes for one second before he realizes what's happening. He throws his arms around Pep's neck and kisses him back frantically, desperate for him after weeks without. "Pep," he manages to moan in delight when they pull back for air. "Fuck, I missed this so much."

Pep bends down and rests his forehead against his. "Me too," he murmurs before kissing him again, soft and slow and sumptuous. Every time Bojan tries to kiss faster or harder, Pep slows down the kiss even more.

After what seems like forever, Pep finally pulls back. His lips are red and puffy, Bojan's the same. "Where's your bedroom?' he asks, eyes dark. Bojan slumps against the door, mind spinning.

"What? Oh, um. That one there." He tilts his head back for more kisses, arms tightening around Pep's neck. Instead of kissing him, Pep hefts Bojan up against the wall. "Legs around my waist," he orders. As soon as Bojan's in place, Pep pushes them away from the wall. Bojan squeaks in surprise as Pep carries them to the bedroom. "I've been thinking about this ever since you left," he tells him without a hint of strain. Bojan tightens his legs and just watches Pep. His chin and cheeks are stubbly and Bojan unwraps a hand from his neck to stroke it, hairs bristly against his fingers.

"Yeah?" he breathes. He leans forward and brushes his cheek against Pep's. "Scratchy," he smiles. Pep huffs a small laugh.

"This it?" Bojan nods. Pep steps through the door and lays Bojan down on the bed. Bojan immediately pushes himself up on his hands. As soon as he sees Pep unbuttoning his shirt his hands fly to pull off his own. "Wait," Pep tells him. He folds his shirt and carefully places it on the dresser, Bojan's eyes following his every move. "Lie back, Kiki." He kneels on the bed and straddles Bojan, body burning hot above him. He dips down delicately and kisses Bojan, one hand on his waist, the other threading through his hair. Bojan opens up to him and arches up, his erection bumping against Pep's ass. But Pep ignores the unspoken plea and continues to kiss him. Bojan whines and pushes up more, trying to get his attention.

"Pep," he asks finally. "What..." he trails off and Pep places sucking kisses behind his ear, each one causing his stomach to tighten with pleasure.

Pep pulls back, dark eyes only a few inches away from Bojan. "I want to do this right," he tells him. Bojan closes his eyes with the sheer intimacy of the moment, and Pep kisses each lid tenderly. "Your first time should be special," he murmurs. "Not half dressed against the wall." He nibbles on Bojan's chin.

"Pep, it was the perfect first time," Bojan protests. He cups Pep's head and pulls him down to kiss him tenderly. "Fuck, it was the hottest night of my entire life." His vehemence shocks even him, and when Pep pulls back there's less guilt in his eyes.

"Good," he says simply. "But, I still want to do this," he says, mouth curving into a smile. "Sometimes it's nice to take your time."

Bojan glares. "Well, sometimes it's nice to actually come," he informs him snippily. He pushes his cock against Pep again just in case he was unclear. "After waiting for more than an hour."

"So impatient, Kiki," Pep chides him. He slides his hands under Bojan's shirt, making him shiver in lust. He bites his lip and stares up at Pep pleadingly. "As your coach," Pep says, pushing up the shirt inch by inch, "it's my job to help you learn control." As soon as the shirt exposes a nipple Pep lunges down and wraps his lips around it, suckling and teasing the flesh. Bojan arches up. The relentless stimulation is rapidly turning his skin raw, but it's the best kind of pain, the kind that slides down his spine and into his cock. He plants his feet against the bed and pushes up, desperate for friction. Pep nimbly avoids him and shoves his shirt up more, exposing his other nipple.

"Pep," he whimpers. Pep's mouth curves up but instead of touching him he just switches to the other nipple, leaving a hand to pull and tweak at the already abused one. "Fuck." Bojan runs his hands up his bare chest, fingers greedily scraping against the firm muscles and coarse hairs. "Fuck," he moans, voice cracking. "Please, more." He writhes under Pep's lips, but Pep remains just out of reach. "Pep!"

Pep replaces his mouth with his hand, now pinching and pulling both nipples. "I havne't really played with these before, have I?" he muses. He abruptly pulls his hands away, leaving his skin tender and crying out for more. Bojan whimpers, too turned on for words, looking up through his lashes at the other man. Pep stares down at him, hunger written in his mouth, his eyes. "I wonder," he breathes, rising on his knees and straddling his hips.

"Please Pep," he tries again. "Please, please."

Pep smiles down and him and gracefully dips down. His teeth sink into a nipple and his hand presses against the front of his jeans. Bojan spasms against the bed, the fierce pain and the rough scratch of denim across his cock just enough to tip him over the edge into orgasm. He cries out incoherently, hands flying up to grab Pep's shoulders. He holds on as tight as he can and lets the intensity wash over him.

He's vaguely aware of Pep undressing him, obediently shifting as he pulls off his shirt and strips him of his jeans. "Flip over for me Kiki," Pep tells him. He does so, resting his head on crossed arms. He makes an inquisitive sound, still too liquid and relaxed to form words. Gentle lips touch the back of his neck and trail down to his shoulders, stubble a delicious burn. Bojan squeaks and blushes unseen when Pep chuckles against his skin. He continues trailing kisses down his spine, each touch winding Bojan tighter and tighter. As Pep gets further down his back, Bojan curls his hips back greedily. It doesn't work though; if anything, Pep goes slower, each kiss worshipful.

Finally, finally he reaches his tailbone. Bojan's back is screaming from the awkward curve but he doesn't care. He just wants Pep. His lips, his fingers, his cock, doesn't matter.

He gasps in shock. There's a wethotheat tracing his hole, flickering over and over the sensitive skin. He moans loudly and pushes back, desperate for more. Pep responds by pulling him open, strong hands cupping each cheek and stretching him wider. His tongue delves deeper, further and Bojan can't believe how intense this feels. It's more intimate than sex, more exposed than being fucked against the wall. Pep's tongue is in him, he's tasting him. He clenches down at the thought and whimpers as it forces Pep's tongue deeper. He only realizes he's gasping for breath when Pep runs a soothing hand along his back. He bites his arm and tries to control himself, trying not to let on exactly how deeply this is affecting him. His cock begins to stir again, so soon after his orgasm it hurts. "Pep," he whimpers.

"Kiki," the other man softly replies, breath brushing against sensitive skin. "Fuck. I knew you'd be like this."

"Mmm," Bojan replies. Arousal sits low in his stomach, a steady tide getting higher and higher. Every sensation is magnified. Pep's smoky arousing scent is like a physical presence against his tongue and nose. "More," he says, uncertain what he's asking for and not really caring.

Pep turns and nibbles at the curve of his ass, groan vibrating against his skin. "So beautiful, Bojan." He pulls back and Bojan cranes his neck, pouting. Pep gives a strained laugh. "Don't worry, Kiki," he says. "I couldn't leave you like this." Bojan pushes his face back in his arms and does his best to wait.

Thankfully, Pep's back within seconds, draping himself across Bojan's back. "Mother of god but you're pure sin like this," he says, words heartfelt against his neck. Bojan pushes himself up on his knees, his ass pressing against Pep, words not necessary. Pep places one more kiss to his back before pulling away again. Bojan doesn't have time to protest before there's a cold finger at his entrance. He gasps in shock but quickly pushes into the stretch.

"More," he mutters and Pep obeys, second finger pressing into him. Bojan rocks back, clenching around his fingers. He hisses as Pep scissors his fingers. "I'm ready, I'm ready," he chants over and over, pressing his face into the bed for leverage as he pushes his hips up even more. The fingers disappear and are replaced with a large blunt pressure. Pep pushes in slow and steady and inexorable, leaving Bojan keening into the pillow.

It seems like forever before Pep stops, his hips resting against Bojan's ass. He's so fucking big, so present that he overwhelms all of Bojan's senses. Bojan turns so his cheek rests against the pillow, eyes hazy and unseeing. He bites his lower lip to stop from screaming in pleasure as Pep slowly slides out and rams back in. The question comes from nowhere. "Am I good?" He's horrified and he blushes hotly, pleasure briefly forgotten in sheer humiliation.

Pep pauses and Bojan closes his eyes. He mashes his face into the pillow and closes his eyes. "Bojan," Pep says. He runs his hands down Bojan's back soothingly. "Fucking you is like..." he stops, resting his head on Bojan's shoulder. "It's like nothing-you're like-" He stops. "I think about you all the time," he admits, low and broken. He nuzzles into Bojan's neck, lips next to his ear. "I think about the sounds you make when I push into you, the way you taste when you explode onto my tongue, the way you shiver when you come." He rolls his hips and Bojan hisses as his cock drives directly into his prostate. "Every day you were gone I spent waiting for your call." He starts a slow in and out motion, hoarse gasps interrupting his words. "I dream about your mouth." With that admission he drops his forehead to Bojan's neck and starts to truly fuck him, almost as if he's embarrassed by the admission.

Bojan turns his head back to the side to get enough air, doing his best to assimilate what the other man just said. And then all higher thoughts disappear as Pep shifts his angle and stars explode behind his eyes.

Thre are no more words, only groans and gasps, slick hands and burning pleasure. Bojan spirals higher and higher, spurred on by Pep's harsh breath and body driving into him. It's so good, so much, and he can't help it, fuck he't help it. He arches his hips up more, trying to grip his cock, but Pep's constant thrusting means means he can't find the balance to touch himself. He can only push back and grind down on his cock, praying it will be enough stimulation.

"Pep, please, please, fuck me, fuck me harder, deeper, make me come," he pants, words spilling from his lips without thought. He curls his back into an even tighter angle, beyond discomfort or pain, desperation twisting every muscle. Pep grunts against his neck.

"Kiki," he moans. "Oh fuck." With one final thrust, he pushes all the way in and starts to come, jerking cock pressed directly against his prostate. Bojan keens and without ever being touched, comes again. His entire body jerks, tensing around Pep, wringing more groans and jerks from the other man.

"Fuck," he wails as his cock jerks and spasms, completely dry but still orgasming.

Pep abruptly pulls out of him. He quickly flips Bojan on his back and swallows his anguished moan in a sloppy kiss. He kisses him hungrily, hand finally closing around and strokinghis cock. But it's too late; Bojan whimpers and grabs the other man's hand, stilling it. Instead, he holds their hands still around his sensitive cock. Bojan's almost crying with the overstimulation but he's not going to let go for fucking anything.

Slowly, Bojan becomes aware of the wetness dripping from him and his come sticky on his stomach. He grimaces into the kiss and Pep pulls away. "Where's the bathroom?" he asks, hints of the Barcelona coach peeking through the crisp words. Bojan nods in the general direction, too blissed out for anything else. Pep climbs off the bed with a groan and disappears, coming back with a wet washcloth. He tenderly wipes Bojan down before giving himself a desultory wipe. He tosses the cloth into the hamper and climbs back into bed. Bojan instinctively curls into him, burying his nose in his shoulder. "You OK?" Pep asks, pressing a kiss into his hair.

"Yeah," Bojan sighs. "Perfect."

"Good." There's a comfortable silence. Bojan traces circles across Pep's stomach while Pep aimlessly strokes his back. Bojan's boneless, completely fucked out; he's happier than he's been... well, since the last time Pep fucked him. He smiles at the thought and pulls away to share it with Pep.

The other man is sprawled out against the pillow, face relaxed, hand still tucked around Bojan's waist.

Bojan sits there, watching. And then he pulls up the covers around them both and goes to sleep.


End file.
